Read No Peace for the Damned Online

Authors: Megan Powell

No Peace for the Damned (10 page)

BOOK: No Peace for the Damned
13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Don’t you dare cry! Not in front of all these people…no matter how disappointed he is in you
.

He crouched in front of me and waited until I looked up. This close, his huge body blocked the others from my sight.

“Are you OK?” he asked, his voice tight. I nodded. His big hand gripped both of mine in my lap. He took a deep breath. His mind was too focused to read, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was holding back his own strong emotion.

“Did you blow up Batalkis’s house?” he asked softly.

The burn in my eyes threatened real tears. I shook my head no and, fortunately, that was enough. Thirteen let out the breath he’d been holding. He nodded, squeezed my hand once more, and then joined the others to review the surveillance equipment readout.


Afternoon sun lit up the game room. I checked my watch: 3:08 p.m.
Shit
. This wasn’t good. Thirteen stood over the pool table, Charles and Shane at his sides. Jon was on speakerphone. He and Theo were back at Batalkis’s working with the police. Like Thirteen, they both had government credentials that got them past the yellow tape. I could ignore the burning twitch and the pounding headache if it was Theo calling in to report. But with Jon talking…I held back a growl. My hands moved over my arms. My legs crossed and uncrossed every few seconds.

“We’ve got a problem, Thirteen,” Detective Pryor whispered through the cell phone. “Give me a second while I find a secure location.”

That’s it
. I had to do something.

On hands and knees I scoured the entertainment center. DVDs, books, video games.
What the hell? Didn’t these people drink?

I tried to focus on just Cordele’s thoughts, but it was no use; other thoughts kept slipping through. Shane was pissed—about the explosion, about missing Batalkis, about life in general. Then Charles—he was second-guessing his decisions, wondering how he could have prevented the house from going up in flames. And then there were even more: the fire crew at the explosion site, the neighbors who had come to watch. My head throbbed. I tore
through another shelving unit. Jon’s mind hit me. Then Detective Pryor’s. I closed my eyes tight and held my fists to my temples.

“How long has it been?” Thirteen whispered from beside me. I jumped. I hadn’t even heard him coming.

“This morning,” I gritted out, “before you came to HQ.”

“That was over nine hours ago. You didn’t bring anything?”

I turned on him. “I hadn’t exactly planned on being gone the entire freaking day!”

He grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. I twisted from his grip and fisted my hands. Lights flickered all around me. The TV shorted out.

It’s Thirteen. Just Thirteen, not someone trying to hurt you
.

But my mind was frazzled. I couldn’t think. He stood his ground in front of me, once again blocking my view of the others. I met his eyes and suddenly saw an image of the farmhouse. The couches in the great room, the cobwebs in the kitchen. He was giving me something familiar to focus on. And it worked.

I followed the rise and fall of his chest. Breathe in, breathe out. All the while I walked with him through the mental layout of the farmhouse. The tacky kitchen. The tiny bathroom. My bedroom. After a moment, he motioned for me to follow him upstairs.

The stairs from the basement game room opened into a modern kitchen. Glass cabinets, stainless steel appliances, a tiled island centered in the room. Thirteen stopped and pulled out a bar stool. “Sit.”

I glared at him but took the seat. He opened the cabinet above the stove and pulled out a brown bottle of Jim Beam. My arms trembled; the twitching went into overdrive.

“A couple of decades ago I was in Shanghai,” he said. He opened a couple of other cabinets, looking for a glass. “The target was a fortune-teller. A swindler who bankrupted an entire village.” He shrugged. “It was an entry-level assignment, but I was
new to the Network so it was mine.” He brought down two juice glasses and set them by the whiskey. My throat burned. “Turned out the woman wasn’t clairvoyant, she was telepathic. She used the townspeople’s thoughts to promise them their dreams, then emptied their bank accounts.” He poured a couple of shots. My head pulsed.

“Once I had her in custody, she begged for her opium.” He went to the fridge for ice. “We refused.”

Was he going to withhold it? Drink it in front of me?

He plopped ice in both glasses then slid one of the drinks across the counter to me. “She killed herself within four hours. But not before tearing her own ears from her head trying to stop the voices.” He met my gaze. “Her power was nothing compared to yours. I suspect the same is true for the pain.”

I grabbed the glass with both hands and downed the drink. Instant coolness to the lingering burn. He slid me the second glass and poured another. The pain slowly faded. Another three glasses and I was alone again in my head.

“Thank you,” I said finally.

He watched me with his back against the counter. “You want to tell me what happened at Batalkis’s house?”

I looked at him closely. His thoughts were clearer now but I still didn’t see a reprimand coming. I must be missing something. “Cordele and the others explained it enough,” I said, circling the glass on the countertop.

“I’d like to hear your version.”

I cocked a brow.

“An electric igniter was found among the rubble,” he explained. “Our short-range equipment is stronger than our long-range, but it still didn’t pick up the device when we did our initial scans. I know you didn’t cause the explosion. But there are still questions. Jon said the police found human remains. We’re
trying to determine if Batalkis was home, setting off the explosion himself, or if the bomb was triggered from a remote and the remains are one of the missing Network agents. We didn’t read any signs of life when we approached the house, so most likely the body was already there when the explosion occurred. Which leaves the question of how—”

“It was triggered when Cordele entered the house,” I blurted.

He gave me a speculative look. I sighed.

“I followed right after you left,” I told him. Then I explained everything. Crouching beside Shane, the bomb ticking, the door, Cordele—everything.

“There was something else, though,” I said when I was done. “When I was in the yard I, um, felt something.”

“What do you mean?”

“My family had been there. Maybe not today, but recently. I could feel it. It was like a shadow of their power was left behind. It was all around the house.” I took another drink. “You know, I never thought about what it felt like to use our power before. It never dawned on me that there would be an aftereffect. But it makes sense, I guess. I mean, when you use the kind of power my family uses, there should be some kind of…impression or something, right?

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. His thoughts were too concrete to hide.
Son of a bitch
. I closed my eyes.

“So that’s it, then?” I asked, trying to contain my anger. “My punishment for not following your orders: you’re going to make me fight. Put me on the front lines—see if my power can match my family’s in a real one-on-one battle? Well you can go to hell, because I’ve already done my time, and I’m sure as hell not going back!”

“I will do everything in my power to keep you from coming face-to-face with your family,” he said quickly. “You must know
that by now. But you asked to join today. You fought me to be here then came alone after I refused.” He took a deep breath. “I know I’ve already asked more of you than we ever agreed to. Today, when you saved Cordele, you proved that you’re willing to do what’s necessary to support and protect this team. If you want to just keep training, remain an invaluable resource away from the threat of action, I have no problem with that. But that’s not what you wanted when you snuck out to come here today.”

Actually going up against my father or Uncle Max—could I even do that? Like, physically, was it even possible? The thought of seeing any one of my relatives made bile rise in my throat. I needed more whiskey.

“I’ll train them on some of the other powers,” I said finally. “It’s time to move on to something beyond combat anyway.”

He nodded and I looked away. This conversation wasn’t over. I knew that. But right now I didn’t want to think anymore.

I threw back the rest of my drink. “When can I leave?”

He looked at his watch. “The team is meeting back at your farmhouse in an hour.”

I rubbed my hands over my face.
Great
.

A bagel in one hand and my whiskey in the other, I sat cross-legged on one of the ottomans in the great room. Theo sat across from me on one of the longer couches with Jon and Heather. Whatever it was that drew me to him, it was getting stronger.

Thirteen was all business. He’d been on the phone with Banks, and while nothing was official yet, the coroner on site thought the body found at Batalkis’s house was Batalkis himself. We’d have to wait to find out how long his body had been there. Of course, if the corpse had been there too long, I would have smelled it rotting. No point sharing that, though. Didn’t want to interrupt Thirteen when he was all-business mode.

Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the front window right into Thirteen’s eyes. He kept moving around to avoid the glare. Curtains. How could I have gone this long without getting some?

“Chang is compiling a new list of all Kelch and Kelch Incorporated properties,” Thirteen continued. “We will work on rotations—each scouting out a given site for likelihood of holding hostages. We will reconvene here in the morning to determine next steps.”

Thirteen paused and took a shaky breath. There hadn’t been any more bodies recovered, but at least three Network agents were still missing. Their absences affected him more than he wanted the others to know.

“Magnolia,” he said. I sat straighter. “You said that your family’s power was used at Batalkis’s home. Something more than just their physical strength. Can you show us how to defend against what you felt?”

I nodded and shoved the last of my bagel in my mouth. I brushed away the crumbs from my shirt and quickly tried to piece together a good exercise to start with.

That’s when I lost them.
Crap
.

All around the room, minds went numb. Hadn’t they gotten used to me yet? I mean, seriously, a brush of my hands over my chest shouldn’t send them all dumb and loopy anymore. I glanced at Heather and Cordele. Both women gave me arched looks. Then Marie. Her eyes were just as glassy and unfocused as the men’s.

Well. That certainly added another level of hostility to the petty anger she continued to throw my way.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Snap out of it!”

Cordele swung back from her seat and whacked Shane on the side of the head. “Ow!”

“Well, it worked on Chang.” She shrugged then flashed a smug grin. Everyone blinked themselves back to normal.

“You all know how fast I can move, how easy it is for me to incapacitate you. So when the time comes, remember, distance is best. If you
are
forced to fight hand-to-hand with one of them,
remember the basics: they’re all about speed and strength. Especially my brothers. Both have martial arts training but they didn’t take it seriously. There’s no thought in their fight—just quick brute force. And trust me, that can be enough.”

I fidgeted with my drink.

“There’s nothing you can really do about the telekinesis other than know that some of them have it. The main worry is their telepathy. Uncle Max is the superior power, obviously, but all of them can get in your mind to some degree. Only Uncle Max can rip out your thoughts in a mindsweep, but the others can mess with your senses, make you see things that aren’t really there.”

“What do you mean, make us see things?” asked Cordele.

“They can make things appear. Like they can put a wall in front of you, or make you think there are people yelling at you. It’s all very real to the people who see it.”

“Then how do we tell what’s real and what’s not?” Jon asked.

I looked at my glass and turned it in my hand again. “I’m not positive because they were never able to do it to me, but I think there’s a way to block the illusion if you know it’s coming.”

“Is that something we can practice?” Theo asked.

“Sure,” I said, an unfamiliar purr suddenly dropping my voice. “Wanna have a go?”

Shane’s mouth went slack. Charles shifted in his seat. Theo fought back a grin.

Holy shit—did I just say that?

“Sure,” Theo said. “Where do you want to do it? In here OK, or you looking for something more…comfortable?”

My face burned. Jon coughed loudly and shot Theo a look. I tightened the grip on my glass and took another drink.
Focus
. But God, it took all my effort not to get up and cross the room to him right now.

“There’s always some sort of stirring when energy is used. It may be very subtle, but it’s always there. Like at Batalkis’s house. The power actually hung in the air and brushed against us.”

“But only you could feel that,” Charles said, impatience heavy in his voice.

BOOK: No Peace for the Damned
13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Fell Sword by Cameron, Miles
The Devil Colony by James Rollins
Bonzo's War by Clare Campbell
Night and Day by White, Ken
Christmas in Bruges by Meadow Taylor
Murder of a Needled Knitter by Denise Swanson
Friends Forever by Danielle Steel
Getting Back by William Dietrich